


Better Than It Could Have Been

by Tirassi



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tirassi/pseuds/Tirassi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nasir briefly recounts his childhood, his life with his dominus, and the moment everything comfortable changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's short, not really meant to be taken seriously. [[Also not my best writing, but I rarely have enough muse to think of something AND write it, so I wanted to get it out before it left.]]

My name is Tiberius. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a slave. My parents died before my remembering, so it has always been my brother and I. My brother, Masud, is 4 years my elder. He called me Nasir. After our parents were killed, we lived with our uncle, a vile, execrable man. I remember little of my brother, as we were separated when I was young, but he was good and kind, and did his best to protect me. For as long as I can remember, we were slaves to my uncle. We were treated poorly, beaten when he felt the need, fed only occasionally, and forced to sleep upon the ground. For the 4 years of my life I can remember being with Masud, he had always done his best to protect me. Though we were given very meager portions, my brother often shared his with me, allowing himself to be hungry so that I wouldn’t have to.   
Not 8 summers had passed when my uncle sold my brother to pay off a debt. I was alone then, having to fend for myself, and still at the mercy of my uncle. When I was 12, I too was sold, to some Roman soldiers that had invaded our village. My price? My uncle’s freedom. When presented choice, he quickly and freely pushed me into Roman hands, and ran for his life in the other direction. I never saw him again. I can only hope that he got what he deserved in the end. I was passed through many hands before finally being bought.  
Flavius Varius. That was the name of the man that bought me, the one I would call Dominus from that day forward. It was around that time when I realized that it was other boys I found appealing, instead of girls. I didn’t make it obvious, but somehow he knew, and that’s why he chose me. He said he could tell based on the glances I passed, and to whom. He asked my real name only once. When I told him, he simply shook his head, and from that day on, I was Tiberius. I had almost forgotten my real name. When I first joined his other slaves, I was terrified, but for the first time in my life that I could remember, I was actually given a mattress to sleep on. It was small and rather uncomfortable, little more than a pile of straw with an animal skin over it. But it was far better than sleeping on the floor. Like the other new slaves, I was given basic tasks at first. But, much to my surprise, it wasn’t so terrible. Though there was now a thick leather collar around my neck that chafed and bruised, I wasn’t beaten, and I was given adequate food. It was better than being with my uncle.  
Though he didn’t state it publicly, my dominus also had a preference for men, at least, as much desire for them as for women. I hadn’t been there for more than a month when I began to notice the way he would watch me, the way he would stare. I felt shivers constantly running up and down my spine. But, I knew my place as a slave, and when he ordered me to his bed, I went without hesitation. On that day, and in the ones following, I was taught how to fuck properly, for his pleasure of course, not my own. It was unpleasant at first, but soon enough, I learned.  
As the years went on, I learned more, and my dominus began to show me off to his friends. I was loaned to them as a bribe, or attempt to win favor. I gave into their whims as I did to my dominus, all without complaint, of course. There were a few occasions when I wondered what it may have been like to lay with someone for love, but I knew my place as a slave, and I knew such a day would never come for me, so I pushed such thoughts aside as I bent over a table or a bed, pressed my chest to a wall, dropped to my knees, as I was expected, and performed as I was expected, casting away such thoughts of sex for my own pleasure.  
My dominus, ever pleased with my body, began affording me more and more privileges. I got moved to a room with a better bed, and I got more food at mealtimes. I was taught to read and write better, and discovered that I was actually quite gifted with numbers. When I was 15, I was tasked with keeping his finances in order, and I was also given work as a scribe, occasionally.   
When I was 16, I was made his amanuensis. From that point, I followed him everywhere. I joined him in the marketplace, on journeys he made, to social gatherings. I have gone with him to the mines, to deposit slaves proven unworthy. And of course, I am often in his bedchamber, observing, at least, if not pleasing him myself.  
I have been with my dominus for 8 years now. I have position within the house. There is no slave above me, only my dominus. I am in charge of the other slaves, I give orders, despite being one of the youngest here. I am given respect, and in return, I treat the others with fairness. While this life may not be ideal, it’s better than it could have been.


	2. Chapter 2

Today was an interesting day.  Several weeks ago, my dominus received a letter.  As with all of the letters he received, I opened and read it first to deem its import before bothering my dominus with it.  It was from Quintus Lentulus Batiatus, a lanista in Capua.  Capua isn’t too far away.  I’ve accompanied my dominus there a few times.  The letter was an invitation from Batiatus, presumably sent to several others as well, urging my dominus to join him for the games. 

My dominus was interested, though the lanista was beneath him socially.  He agreed, and thus I joined him.  I had never seen the games before, but I was silently excited.  Though I had to stand in the back of the box with the other slaves, I could still see well, at least well enough.   I found myself in quiet conversation with a pretty, dark-skinned body slave named Naevia, who belonged to the wife of Batiatus.  She was kind and gentle, and I found I rather enjoyed her company.  She said she never cared for the games, they were too violent for her tastes.  She was used to seeing them, though. 

It didn’t take me long to realize why my dominus was hesitant to bring me to the games.  Tall, muscular men with broad backs and chiseled frames, smooth, tanned skin and deadly ferocity.  I was far too interested, and my dominus knew it.

“What thoughts occupy mind, Tiberius?  Does blood pique interest, or do you merely find that the sight of such men stirs cock?”

His voice came as a shock, nearly surprising me.  Apparently I had been quite riveted, and he noticed.  I blushed and shook my head, glancing down. 

“I am merely enticed by bloody spectacle, dominus.”

He laughed a bit, amused.  He was not angered by my attention to the games.

“Fuel for imagining, then.” He said as he continued to watch, “to further enhance nightly performance.”

Again I blushed, but simply nodded.

Batiatus’ men had been claiming victory after victory, and I commented to Naevia that she was lucky to occupy a household with such men.  I noticed she had a rather definite interest in one called Crixus.  I could see that there was something there, the look of fear in her eyes when an enemy blade came too close, and the excitement when he made a deadly strike.

While so far, I was very interested anyway, I was not prepared in the least for the next gladiator from the house of Batiatus.  He was tall and had dark hair, tangled into messy dreadlocks.  Unlike many, he had some facial hair, and the most incredibly smug attitude I had ever seen.  I couldn’t help but stare.  As I watched him battle, I became completely enraptured.  Luckily, I don’t think my dominus noticed.  He was unlike anything I had ever seen, and without a doubt, the single most attractive man I had ever seen in my life.  More than ever, I found myself envying Naevia.  When he claimed victory and left the arena, I turned to Naevia and spoke quietly.

“What name does he go by?”

“That is Agron, from east of the Rhine.   His younger brother Duro fought earlier.”

I wouldn’t forget the name, or the face that came with it.

That night, as my dominus has said, I found my thoughts filling over and over again with the gladiator from east of the Rhine.  Though I shouldn’t have, I pictured him behind me instead of my dominus, and found myself more willing to receive him than I ever had in all the years I had spent with him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this chapter is rushed, I know. It skips quickly. I may fill it out in more detail later. At this point, this is probably the end.

I wasn’t sure what to make of it.  Not too longer after the games, Naevia had come to our villa.  I was excited to see her, as I had made a small friendship with her during the games.  But the state she was in was…terrible.  Apparently, she had been having an affair with Crixus, as was her domina, and when her domina found out, Naevia was passed from villa to villa as a gift.  The last I heard, she would be sent to the mines when they had finished with her.  It was heartbreaking to see such a once-vibrant and beautiful woman reduced to the pitiable creature that came to our villa.  She was only there for a short time before being sent away again.

I really don’t know how to classify my luck.  I’m still not quite over what happened.  There had been a string of massacres, starting with the house of Batiatus.  The gladiators had revolted, taking all the slaves with him, slaying all in the house.  They had gone from villa to villa, slaying the owners and taking the slaves with them.  When they came to my villa, I was terrified.  There was so much blood.  I didn’t even know why they were there at first, all I know was that a man named Spartacus led them.  He lined us up, told us we were free to join him or do what we wished.  He ripped the collar from my neck.  I was already confused and bewildered, unsure of what to do with myself.  But then, out of nowhere… he appeared.

It was him.  Agron.  The gladiator I had been so captivated by during the games.  His hair was short now, but it looked better.  Far better.  And his facial hair was a bit longer.  He was far taller in person than I had imagined.  Up close, it was easier to see every muscle, every scar.  He stood a god before me, and I could feel myself begin to tremble. 

My mind was a disaster.  Between Agron and the destruction he brought, I wasn’t sure what to think.  In one swift motion from the hands of the gods, my comfortable life within the villa was over.  I was “free” but I didn’t know what that meant.  I was terrified.  In my 20 years of life, I had never been free.  I didn’t know what to do with myself.  I liked my life, at least well enough.  It was all I knew, and within my household, I had position and respect and comfort.  But Spartacus and his men had taken that all away from me.  I couldn’t think straight.  I was frightened.  

 Why I tried to kill Spartacus I still don’t know.  When Agron suggested my death, it stung more than it should have, but I didn’t have time to think about that.  Spartacus suggested I live, and I began to think.  I had just tried to kill this man, and he wanted to train me to fight.  It made little sense at the time, but maybe I could survive.

Spartacus and his men made themselves at home in my villa.  I said nothing.  I couldn’t.  I was nothing now.  I was shocked when Agron approached and spoke to me.  He gave me a cup of wine.  We had a brief conversation.  He was a bit sarcastic, but I didn’t care.  The way he looked at me, his words, the sound of his voice…everything about him was just… when I saw him in the arena that day, I thought that would be the last I ever saw of him, and that he would forever remain a fantasy.  When he asked my name, I told him it was Tiberius.  That was my name, it had been for many years.

After Seppius’ men had come, and I had been given choice, I chose the path that would lead to their deaths before they could return with greater forces and kill us all.  Crixus was displeased, but Spartacus was more than satisfied, especially after I had rectified my mistake and saved his life.  It was then that I chose to live as Tiberius no longer.  I told them my real name, and to my satisfaction, Agron accepted it readily.

Since that night, I found myself in private conversation with Agron many times.  I did my best to remain seemingly aloof.  I didn’t want him to realize how much I liked him.  I was afraid he wouldn’t feel the same.  Why would he?  He was a gladiator, now a warrior, and I was just a slave, or a former slave.  Chadara, the only real friend I had, knew how I felt.  She could tell I felt something for Agron, and teased me about it on several occasions.

I didn’t want to lie to Crixus about Naevia.  But Agron seemed to think it would be to the benefit of everyone if Crixus believed her dead.  I couldn’t lie. I had to tell him the truth.  He loved her, and they deserved a chance at freedom together.  I would want someone to give me that chance.  I didn’t blame him for being so angry with Agron, though I could understand Agron’s reasoning, as well.  Agron wasincredibly displeased when I chose to go to the mines.  But I had to help find Naevia.  She was kind to me, and didn’t deserve to be there.  And I knew that I could be convincing.  I had hoped things would have gone better than they did.  But we saved Naevia, which I was glad about.  It then dawned on me that all of my friends were women.  Chadara, Naevia, and Mira, too.  But I don’t mind.

I thought being stabbed was the most painful thing I had ever experienced until Naevia suggested sealing the wound with fire.  I thought for sure we were all going to die anyway.  When I saw Agron’s face, it was like a beacon of light, and I felt that for the first time in a long time, the gods had smiled on me again.

I spent a few days resting in bed.  It felt wonderful to finally be up again.  I was still sore, but I felt well enough to continue, and I wanted to help.  Agron seemed pleased to see me when I got up.  I was pleased to see him, too.  I wasn’t sure he would ever talk to me again after what I did.  But what he did next was something I never anticipated, though I dreamt of it often enough.

When he kissed me, the entire world stopped.  When our lips touched, nothing else mattered.  For just a moment, I couldn’t move.  When he pulled away, but left his hand on my cheek, caressing it softly, that’s when I knew.  I knew that, without a doubt, I would love him forever.  I would never leave his side.  He was a dream come true.  I would spend the rest of my life in his arms, and no matter what came at us, I knew that I could handle it, because he would be with me, and I would be with him.  Always.


End file.
